What Ever Happened?
by Planet Telex
Summary: When Ron's hopes and dreams for a relationship with Kim seem impossible, he takes solace in starting anew in Washington without anyone from his old life knowing. Will he make a better life for himself? And what if someone steps in again? Give it a chance!
1. Prologue The Beginning of the End

PROLOGUE – THE BEGINNING OF THE END

I.

Ron leaned up against the crate and desperately tried to catch his breath. The pain in his side was unbearable and it would have stopped him from running entirely if it weren't for Kim possibly needing him by her side. The Ron Factor may have been a load of unbelievable crap, but there was still a point proven in it all. Kim did seem to have a high success ratio when he was with her in their attempts to stop evil in every which shape and form. Ron knew that if he were to ever say he helped her cause, she would come back by saying, "It's i our /i cause, Ron." That dedication to convincing Ron that he was more than he really was only reinforced the fact that she was his best friend and a finer human being there would not be found on the face of the planet.

All of these seemingly random thoughts connected by weak bridges of argument went through the brain of Ron Stoppable in a matter of seconds. It was weird how he always caught his mind wandering. Sometimes he'd wonder if he had ADD, but by the time he began reasoning his mental health, Kim was snapping him out of "la-la land". This random series of thoughts only served in tricking Ron into not keeping his guard up as he should have. From behind the crate, Shego's hands turned into swirling balls of green plasma as she struck into the wood; knowing full well that her target was hidden behind.

The sound of splintering—no, the sound of _tearing_ wood woke Ron from his mental funk and he quickly sprung into action. Kicking off the bottom of the wooden container, Ron rolled away from the seemingly exploding box. Wood flew in various directions and by the time he looked up, Shego had jumped through and was running for him.

"_This is it_," thought Ron to himself. "_This must be how I die. I always knew that Kim Possible would wind up getting me killed in the end._" Ron attempted getting up, but found that there was a large chunk of wood buried in his calf. Looking up at the charging Shego—her right fist reaching back as if to gain momentum for the death throw ahead of her—Ron silently closed his eyes and thought with an odd sense of peace, "_It's been nice Kim._"

Seemingly appearing out of thin air, Kim flew into scene with legs thrashing. She threw a paralyzing kick into the green woman's side and sent her flying away from Ron. The aforementioned death-accepter opened one eye and looked up to see the girl he'd known and loved like a sister since before he could make clear memories standing before him. Like some hero on a life-size cutout movie advertisement, Kim stood before him with her hair flowing in the rushing wind. She looked like victory incarnate and a smile on her face told how proud she was of saving her friend's life.

Ron looked over at the struggling-to-stand Shego and looked back up at the teenage heroine. "WAY TO GO, **KP**!" His voice was buoyant and festive, despite his leg wound and the fact that he almost died before her eyes. None of the previous mattered when one took into context the delight of not having been killed. Of course, even with his bleeding leg Ron might have proved a light-hearted mess. It was just in his pre-tuned nature to be as such.

"No big Ron!" She turned her head and at that exact moment, the sun made a major stride in coming up over the horizon. The hole where the missing roof (which had once been above their heads and now lay in shambles at their feet) had once been let in the waves of gold, orange, purple and red cast off by the rising sun. Ron's jaw dropped as he gazed at the vision of utter perfection before him: Kim stood defiantly looking at him with her head cocked and a smile on her face that told him everything would be all right forever. The lights served as an aura of her beauty. Sure, there were little spots of blood on her from various cuts caused by the massive explosion from minutes before, and sure, there were tiny cuts in her mission gear that served as harbingers of imperfection; but none of it mattered. They only strengthened the sense of power that came from the stunning vision of flawlessness that was Kim Possible.

The moment came to an end when Kim turned and begin charging Shego, intent on distracting her while Ron did his thing and activated a self-destruct feature. She threw punch after punch at the antagonist who in turn blocked every single one. But Ron didn't even notice. He continued staring off into the void where Kim had once stood; caught in the moment of glimmering exquisiteness and not wanting it to come to an end. Suddenly, his thoughts seemed to be centered around KP. They always were in the first place, but never in the way they were now. Ron's consciousness was suddenly flooded with visions of him kissing the teen under the elm on which they had constructed a tree house years ago. He saw himself lifting her in his arms like that scene in "Dirty Dancing". He saw her laughing while he tickled her on a bed of roses; her giggles and laughs only drowned out by those of Ron's. And finally he saw himself standing beside Kim at what appeared to be a church altar. Everything seemed so different and new, just like the theme song to "Loveboat" said it would. And like that, Ron was confused.

Kim turned back and saw Ron sitting there, staring off into space. The sight frustrated her, but when she looked farther down, she spotted a large bloody mass on the bottom of his leg; the trail of blood leading feet away from his resting person. How she hadn't noticed before was beyond her. Kim blocked an incoming punch and turned back. "RON!"

The blond snapped out of "la-la land" and hopped to his feet. Glancing over, he saw Kim fighting Shego and remembered that he should be shutting off the latest massive destruction machine belonging to Drakken.

"Sorry KP!" He realized his blanking out had probably cost them some time.

"It's all right!" Kim dropped to her knees and swung her foot out under Shego's in an attempt to fall her. "Just hurry up!"

Ron turned from the fighting females (which any other straight guy on the face of the earth would have beaten him up for) and began running in the direction of the doomsday device.

II.

Long story short, Ron found the machine and slammed his fist down on the big, red button; ensuring its self-destruction and thus, the elimination of his latest evil lair. Drakken clawed his way out from under the rubble and started up a previously hidden escape vehicle. Shego escaped from Kim, hopped in and the two were off. Ron and Kim made their way to a rope ladder dangling from a helicopter sent by Global Justice to assist and escaped mere seconds before a tidal wave of fire wiped the location off the face of the map.

GJ medics tended to Ron's legs and bandaged up the cuts on Kim, but he almost didn't notice any sort of pain. As he stared into Kim's tired eyes, he could only keep his mind entertained on the thoughts of her beautiful form gracing his presence until the end of days; the sun would drop from the sky forever and the two would be left with the delight of holding each other in the dark. Then his ten-year-plus mental state of friendship and friendship alone kicked in.

"_What are you thinking_" Ron's antagonistic voice always set himself in his place.

"_Have you ever just, I don't know, looked at her_" As if to confirm the presence of two beings in his single body, Ron double-glanced at Kim; getting a good look at her for his other side.

"_Wow. I, I, I guess I haven't._" He sounded honestly confused and it startled himself.

There was a silence in his mind for five minutes before he asked, "_What do I do now?_" Unfortunately, there came no answer.

Kim dozed off minutes into the flight, but Ron spent the entire ride back home staring into her sleeping eyes and wondering what he was going to do about his emotions; if he was going to do anything at all in the end.


	2. Chap 1 The Turning Point

Warning for my own butt: I do not, nor have I ever owned the rights to Kim Possible. If I did, I would also own a hammer and those executives at Disney would have renewed the show a LOT sooner.

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CHAPTER ONE – THE TURNING POINT

I.

The moon was high in the sky, and the residents of Middleton were asleep in their beds; all the while, visions of pleasantries danced through their heads. And then there was the sudden awakening of Ronald Stoppable. Said teen lunged up in bed and pondered over his subconscious calm and state of solution. Sweat rolled down his forehead and traced along his brow line, eventually making its way to his freckle-covered cheeks. His brown eyes stared straight ahead. If it were the opening moment of a movie, the camera would pan backwards exposing the large world surrounding the single man; all the while his eyes stayed wide open, looking forward in a moment of shocked realization.

His breathing was shallow and heavy and his mind had stopped racing for the first time in weeks. Never before in Ron's life had everything made so much sense. Never before had every single thought in his head been so perfectly aligned in a spectacular show of mental understanding. Right here, right now. The previous problems and confusion towards emotions were instead replaced with a surety and crystal clarity. His friend had become something more in his eyes and at this exact moment in time, he realized the truth.

Ron Stoppable was head-over-heels in love with Kimberly Anne Possible.

For the past few months, he had been feeling strange things for his friend. That girl he knew since pre-K was suddenly an object of (was it love?) affection. No longer was she just that sister-like, best friend companion in life. She became something entirely different. If Ron had to pick a single moment when he began to realize his conflicting emotions and shift from the norm, it would be the mission they had accomplished two months and three days to the date before. That moment of sight on the edge of that mountain opened his eyes to an all new feeling he couldn't quite sum up in words. The only thing he knew to say was that he was absolutely certain that he loved her.

"_So loverboy_," began his antagonistic side. "_What happens now?_"

Ron hopped up out of bed and walked briskly to the other side of his room. He swung open his closet door and began digging through for some clothes that would make him look somewhat presentable. Reaching into the far back, he felt his father's blue tuxedo; a hideous mess of design and color combined to create an utterly unappealing dress suit. He was saving that for prom.

"_I'm not sure. I don't know_." He was rushing himself without looking ahead and the future events of his decisive action could only be disastrous. "_I need to tell her. I need to be there and I need to tell her_."

"_You really think she's going to share the same kind of feelings?_"

Ron grabbed a pair of baggy pants and a jersey. "_Real original look Stoppable-san…_," he thought silently; hoping that his other half wouldn't laugh him out of making his move.

"_Hey! Naco Boy! I asked you a question_."

As Ron slipped out of his pajamas, he quipped "_Naco Boy is in a meeting with the executives of Bueno Nacho in an attempt to up his future royalty payments. Can I take a message?_"

"_Not a bad idea Quipless Wonder! More money would actually be—Hey! Don't change the subject! I'm being serious here!_"

Ron's attacking half was always there to question his actions. While he always assumed that it was just a safety procedure, he did feel insulted sometimes and honestly grew to despise his thinking half. Never a calming word or an agreeing statement came from the mouth of what Ron always imagined as a sad little man. And while he didn't see himself as crazy or mentally unfit in any way, shape or form, he did wonder how sane somebody can be when they grow to hate a cautionary version of themselves who doesn't even truly exist. "_You're always serious._"

Ron slid the jersey over his head and ran to the mirror. Pushing a shirt off the top and confronting his sleep-deprived face, Ron attempted to make himself look fantastic for her. He wanted her to look at him and wonder why she hadn't felt the same as he did right now. Ron wanted Kim to run to him and throw her arms around his neck. He wanted to hold Kim in his arms while he kissed her under the full moon and the stars so high in the midnight sky. He wanted to spin in mid-air with her in his arms while rose pedals spun like a cyclone around their forms; keeping them from existing on the same plain as the loveless drones surrounding them on either end.

As Ron ran a comb through his blonde locks, his other self looked on and rolled his eyes. "_You're pathetic, you know that? No amount of prepping available in all of time will make her want to touch you._"

Ron didn't bother giving him the pleasure of a response. His lifted his arm and began tackling his annoying cowlick. What may have been cute in elementary school simply didn't do in today's society of look-hungry teenagers and lustful wants. He needed to look his best. He needed to look mature. He needed to look ready for commitment.

"_So what's the plan then?_" Ron saw his angry self pacing the room behind him in the mirror. He silently wondered if he really was psychotic; it seemed like this was the kind of thing that only happens in weird and farfetched sitcoms or animated shows from that kids Mouse-Silhouette channel. "_Are you going to show up on your magical chariot, I mean, piece-of-shit scooter and throw rocks up at her window all romantic-like? No, wait! You're going to bring along a boombox and hold it above your head while it blares 'Motorway to Roswell' or something else you consider romantic? And then she's going to come running down the stairs, no, she's going to LEAP from her window and into your arms. Then you will place her on your scooter and drive her to the playground where it all started, where you two will kiss until the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard? Hm?_" He waited for Ron to answer and saw that he was indeed growing hesitant of moving so fast. "_Didn't fucking think so._"

Ron stared into his eyes; not _His_ eyes, but his own. He saw a weak, fragile little boy hiding in the body of a teenage world-saver. This was not the man who would win the heart of Kim Possible. He dropped his head and stopped combing over his cowlick. Was he really going to do this? Was he really going to show up at her window and expect her to love him? The teen looked back into his eyes.

"_So how's about we get back into bed and get some rest. You don't want to go messing up a decade-plus friendship for something as miniscule as a crush._"

It was that statement which seemed to revitalize Ron's stamina. He grinned and looked deep inside of himself. This was a decade long friendship and he wasn't going to lose it. Kim was going to see that he was determined with this. She was going to see the earnest emotion and longing in his eyes. She was going to throw her arms around him and never let go. "_You know what?_" His negative portion looked over. "_You can go fuck yourself_."

Ron stopped bothering with his cowlick; if she was going to take him, she was going to take him as is. He didn't need to get dressed up for KP. She knew him. She understood him. And if he showed up professing his love in nice clothes but with his same old hair, she would love him no less for it. The teen turned around and grabbed a sweater from off of the floor. After sniffing (it smelled fine), he threw it on and prepared to make the ride to Kim's of his life.

Pushing up on his window, Ron wondered what to do about the protective screen. The answer came with the snap of his fingers and he wondered why he was so stupid sometimes. He had never broken out of his house before and he guessed he knew the answer all along and was just trying to protect his innocence in a way. It didn't matter. Ron swung one leg out the window and looked back at his angry self who was still standing at his doorway, as if he would tell on him if he left the house.

"_What if she laughs in your face?_"

"_She wouldn't do that and I know it. That means you too._"

II.

Ron dropped down to the ground below with surprising ease. Maybe all those years of fighting bad guys was finally beginning to pay off. He strode over to his scooter, which was still tipped over from his rushed arrival home earlier that day (he got an A on his math test and was excited to let his parents know). He would have started it right then and there, but Ron mentally slapped himself first for forgetting about his sleeping parents.

"They probably wouldn't approve of my going out this late at night."

So with that, the Stoppable teen began wheeling his scooter into the street. He wanted to make the least amount of noise possible and if that meant his working that much harder to get there, he would gladly push the heavy machine to the end of the block to do it. Luckily, he soon deemed it necessary to only push the two-wheeled vehicle to a spot three houses away from his own.

Ron grabbed the key from his back pocket and slipped it into the ignition. The engine turned over three times and stalled. He turned counterclockwise and tried again. A low groaning and then nothing. Ron began growing impatient as he turned the key back and tried once more. The sound of gears grinding to accomplish nothing in the end filled the street once more.

"Dammit!" Ron kicked the side of his scooter and began wheeling it back home. "Am I the only one who sees what a piece of junk this is?"

As he approached his house, Ron didn't even bother pushing the two-wheeler back into the garage. Dropping it even farther away from the house than it had been before, he soon found himself in a dead run for Kim's house. He was intent on telling her how much he loved her, even if it meant he'd have to run there.

The night was dark above the heads of any and all who walked its streets at the late hour. The sleeping occupants of houses that lined either side of any street to be found in Middleton had no idea in their subconscious states of minimal thought that if they were to look out their windows, they may be able to catch sight of the teenage superhero-sidekick Ron Stoppable running (for his life?) down the middle of the road. His legs hit the asphalt and kicked back up; his veins pumped battery acid and the only thought on his mind was reaching the house of one Kimberly Anne Possible.

Even though he was in an exasperated state of exhaustion previously unknown to him, the widest smile was still plastered on his face. He knew what he was going to say and exactly how it was going to happen. His darker half wasn't too far off when he gave his montage of various romantic chick flick finales. Ron imagined the scene going as such:

III.

_The moon basked the earth in a night glow of cosmic proportions. The earth looked so beautiful from where Ron stood and all he could think as he approached the house was how perfect the night was. And there she stood. As if she knew that he was going to be there, or even better: as if she had just come to the same realization and was going to run to Ron's house to profess her love for him. There she stood; her hair flowing delicately in the nighttime breeze, almost ruining the work she had put into it before leaving the house. She wanted to look her best for the man she loved._

_With a quick glance at his feet and a grin on his face, Ron would look so cute; it would make her heart explode. She would run down the asphalt driveway and he would run up. The moments leading up to their first kiss would be in slow motion. Like an old episode of Baywatch or some cheesy moment in a romance film, Ron would twist his body from side to side in an overdramatic show of excitement. Kim—in her infinite grace—would appear to be floating to him; like the nun in "The Blues Brothers", only she wouldn't proceed to pulverize him with a ruler._

_The two would touch and not need to say anything. The feelings exposed on their chests without a word being uttered. He would put his hand on the back of her head and close his eyes. At the same time, KP would reach her arms out over his shoulders and clamp her eyes shut with a passionate forcefulness that would suggest disgust instead of undying lust. And then their lips would meet. Stars would fall from the sky and every planet in the solar system would inexplicably explode. The slow motion sounds of cars screeching to halts and people around the world gasping as one would fill the nighttime; as if the world had been there to watch their moment of admittedly expected amalgamation._

_It would feel so good. It would feel so right. And the moment would never end._

IV.

Caught up in his fantasy, Ron tripped over his own feet and nearly fell flat on his face. Luckily, a near-lifetime of fighting baddies kicked in and he kicked his knee forward; preventing a night-ruining crash of self-indulgence. Ron stood back up straight and assessed his situation. He was currently one block away from the Possible residence. He could either run to the other end of the road, make a left followed by another and run down to her house. OR he could get their quicker.

Ron silently ran into the yard immediately to his left. His feet pounded the earth in a clumsy manner, but it seemed to make no difference; this was a world still sleeping snugly in their beds. They wouldn't notice a boy so hopelessly in love as Ron trudging relatively quietly through their lawns. The grass was wet with dew and the blond could hear his soles beginning to dampen. The squishing sound of wet shoe hitting ground squeaked in his head and seemed loud enough to startle a coma patient.

The teenage lovebird hopped over the fence separating the lawn he currently ran through and the one across the street from Kim's. Landing with aplomb, he continued into the driveway of the sleeping homeowner who owned Ron's current territory. The image of a perfect arrival and a waiting redhead to greet him and kiss him and be with him forever were still playing out before his mind's eye. But the previously buoyant teenager came to a screeching halt when he saw the horror before him. All at once, his dream visions paused and began to crack. The screens they were displayed upon chipped and warped around the corners. A frozen frame of him holding Kim in his arms as their lips explored each other began to stretch. The screen shattered and the pieces fell into an infinite black void before Ron's very eyes.

Kim sat with her back against her father's car in the driveway. She was in her pajamas and had obviously just been woken up. Sitting next to her looking his best was Eric. The pretty new boy who had just moved in weeks ago and taken Kim away from him. The handsome bastard who had simply moved in on his life and grabbed Kim's attention. The homewrecker motherfucker who had all but taken away Ron's previous duties as Kim's right hand man and possible future boyfriend.

Ron's joyous face expecting a "happily ever after" faded to a disconsolate, quivering wreck. The saddened blonde hardly even noticed when his feet fell out from underneath him and he landed on his butt in the wet grass. Even with the dampness of the midnight grass seeping into his butt, he couldn't take his watering eyes away from the sight of the only girl he's ever loved sharing a romantic moment like something out of a movie with someone other than himself.

He could barely make out the conversation going on between the two. As much as he wanted to get up and run back home and cry himself to death, he just couldn't stop himself from staring over at the engaged romantics.

Eric turned away from the sky and looked down at Kim. He didn't tower over her, but he was noticeably taller than her; even when seated. "Isn't it beautiful?" he began. "I sometimes step out of my room downstairs and just sit under the stars. It's like the spinning gases of color and brightness so far away I can never hope to reach a halfway point in traveling to them control a part of me when I see them."

Kim looked up at him and realized that he was using the galaxy and the stars as a metaphor for her. The thought of such a romantic gesture being directed toward her was almost too much for her to bare. As she bit her lower lip, she inched closer to the boy and whisper, "Go on."

Eric smiled and continued. "The stars seem to have this power to just grab your heart and control your every movement the second you are exposed to them." Kim reached her hand over and began drawing circles on Eric's chest as he spoke. "You almost can't bare to look away because if you do, then those blazing balls of light might just disappear. And for such a beautiful thing to leave your vicinity would be a tragedy."

Kim leaned upward and began closing her eyes.

"Oh god," whispered Ron from under the elm tree. "Please don't do this to me."

Eric closed his eyes as well and smiled as he pushed his head (more specifically, his lips) closer to hers.

"I can't take this." Silent tears had been running down his cheeks for the past minute, but Ron just began to notice them. "Please don't do this Kim. Please don't do this to me. Please stop. Please, for the love of god…"

But the moment that should have been his to share with her went to Eric. Eric Whatshisname from Whogivesashit, Nowhere had just taken everything Ron suddenly needed with the snap of his fingers. Eric reached his hand behind Kim's head as their lips touched and the two were lost in bliss. Ron was able to make out the soft sound of her moaning in pleasure. And just as Eric raised his hand to begin exploring the chest region, Ron turned his back to them and slammed up against the other side of the large tree. He opened his mouth and knew that he was going to scream. It was just a reaction to such devastation. Luckily, he had the common sense of reaction time to block his mouth with his arm before he blew his lungs out against his sleeve. All the screaming left him without air and soon enough, he felt the stomach flips that meant he was going to vomit.

He dry-heaved only once before his breakfast, lunch and dinner emptied out onto the grass before him; along with any and all feelings of safety and security in his future with Kim Possible. Right arm feeling weak, Ron collapsed forward and landed face-first just inches away from his pile of failure. Whereas before he had been keeping the tears silent, he now began breathing heavily and letting out split seconds of disgusted, depressed and overall hopeless whimpering.

Without even looking back to see if he had been noticed (which he was sure he hadn't) Ron stood up with his back arched and began stumbling back to the road that would lead him home. A line from the Oasis song "D'You Know What I Mean?" popped into his head: "_Don't look back 'cause you know what you might see._" Too tired and miserable to bother hopping over the fence, Ron walked around to the other side and began making his way back to the bed where he would flop down and cry himself to sleep.

Upon hitting the asphalt and finding himself standing in the middle of the moon's path of light, Ron looked to the wide range of visible sky and felt like dying. Just minutes before, he had felt high above the world; a young world-saver who was on his way to becoming the happiest man ever to walk the earth, even if it was on his own plain of existence. But with the witnessing of his every need as of now collapsing around him, Ron felt like he was falling down an endless shaft of despair and gloom.

As he dropped his head, he felt an arm around his shoulder. Instead of jumping as was expected, he cocked his head and saw his angry side standing beside him, attempting to console.

"_It's gonna be all right_."

And with that, a distraught Ron Stoppable began the long walk back with no one to console him but himself.


	3. Chap 2 Ron Gone part I: Pure Morning

Sorry for the heavily prolonged update; problems with girlfriend made for resentment towards creation.

For my own safety: I do not, nor have I ever owned Kim Possible and all rights thereof. Now on with the story.

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CHAPTER TWO – RON GONE: PURE MORNING

I.

Little Elena threw the ball to the ground and watched it bounce higher than she could ever hope to reach. At five years old, she was always trying to reach higher and farther than was expected for her age; literally and metaphorically. She had been the only kindergartener in the history of Iowa to test out of not only first and second grade math, but show signs of an early understanding of Algebra.

But none of this meant anything to the girl right now. All she cared about was making the rubber ball go higher and higher than she could even imagine possible. But in her insistence on higher heights reached, she forgot to take into account the fact that the ball not only bounced up and down but would roll away as well if it got out of her grasp; if only for a second. The ball hit the ground running and began making its way across the airport terminal.

Ellie (as her parents called her for short) dropped her backpack and ran for the ball before it could get away forever. Dodging past the legs of adults surrounding her on either end, she began her pursuit of the ball. But just as soon as it started, it was over. Elena watched as a cute blond boy older than her, but younger than her father grabbed the ball in mid-air and began looking around for the owner. The little girl smiled and made her way over to him.

Ron leaned forward and looked the little approaching girl right in the eye. "Is this _your_ ball?" His voice sounded gentle and wise-acting-small at the same time to Elena.

She smiled and held out her right hand. "Can I have my ball back please?"

The smile on the adorable girl's face was almost too much for Ron to bare. Even with all that had happened to him less than eight hours before, Ron was caught up in the adorable nature of the small girl before him. She even kind of looked like her. "Anything for a cute little girl like you."

Elena grabbed the ball and ran back to her parents; desperately trying to hide the redness in her face while stifling her giggling. A smile spread over Ron's face.

But soon the moment of adoration is over and Ron is back in his uncomfortable, blue, plastic seat; looking down at his shoes and the plane ticket to Spokane, Washington in his right hand. The ticket represents something previously un-thought of. A chance to begin anew.

II.

_Ron fell into his bedroom; not bothering to enter silently as his heart was heavy enough to drag down his entire figure. He had gone from silently whimpering while tears ran down his cheeks to squealing as he waterlogged himself. The tears ran into his mouth and tastes salty. They tickled his nose and made him scratch his face compulsively. A pain so unimaginably umbrageous, it could only belong in a horrible nightmare; thus was the despondency in his heart._

_The teen kicked off his shoes and collapsed into his bed. The tears soaked the bedspread and—as he moved up—began leaking through his pillowcase. His melancholy was indescribable and it only hurt more when he realized that he never really had a chance with the heroine to begin with. The salty discharge flowed like a river stemming from his heart and flowing into the empty space of his bedroom._

_Sometime after Ron had flopped over onto his mattress, Rufus was awakened. The creature poked its head out from within the pocket of a pair of Ron's dirty jeans somewhere on the floor below. A look of confusion was all-too apparent on his face; just hours ago he had fallen asleep and everything had been fine with his Ron. The happy-go-lucky smile and that look in his eyes were still there. There were no needs to worry about his emotional well-being. And now he was a devastated wreck for reasons entirely unknown to Ron._

_And for that matter, why was he dressed again?_

III.

A beam of sunlight trickled in through the window to Kim's left. After finding a perfect resting spot right over her right eyelid, the beam of light stopped traveling and began awakening. What started with a brief fluttering of her eyelashes became a slow opening as Kim opened her eyes to the world around her. As the teenage beauty sat up in bed, she somehow felt different. Her first amazing romantic encounter had just taken place less than seven hours before and had ended perfectly.

Eric had kissed her tenderly for an entire hour before she finally realized that their night of active activity was taking place on a school night. Not wanting to stumble crankily through the next day, Kim began pulling away to tell Eric that she needed to get a good night's sleep. But the seemingly perfect Eric must have read her mind as he cut her off by telling her that the two should separate and get some rest. She had watched him walk away slowly into the night before she ran back upstairs and fell asleep atop a mattress of champagne wishes and caviar dreams.

As she softly began her morning ritual of showering, moisturizing, and doing her hair, the only thing she could think of was what Ron would think. She could imagine his immense show of happiness after telling him of her wonderful night. She could practically see him jumping for joy in her delight. She could even hear him yelling "Way to GO, KP!" with extra emphasis on the last letter.

IV.

_After nearly an entire half hour of non-stop bawling with Rufus rubbing his shoulder the whole time, Ron finally sniffled and lifted his face from his pillow. Rufus was taken aback by the look of utter anguish on his friend's face; the flesh beneath his eyes was red and puffy as if he had been punched instead of depressed. With one last sniffle, Ron began sitting up in his bed._

_Rufus remained silent. After having barely seen his owner/buddy ever shed a tear, the nude rodent was still wary of his imminent reaction. Maybe he would blow his nose and tell Rufus everything that had happened. Maybe he would grab a glass of water to calm him and a block of cheese for his tiny pal. Maybe he would explain why he was fully dressed again._

_And maybe he would simply fall back over in frenzied crying again._

_Ron looked down at his feet. Even with Rufus resting on his knee, he seemed to be able to look through. Was it "Full Metal Jacket" where they talked about the forty-yard stare, or something to that effect? That knowing stare that meant one had been through the shit; not just the trenches, but the vile stuff that haunts nightmares and sticks with people? As he began wiping the tears from his eyes with the palms of his hands, Ron felt like that man. He felt like he could gaze through brick, he was so intent._

_The naked mole rat didn't mean to seem careless, but he was anticipant for news of any make. "Mm-hmm, what's wrong?" The collection of squeaks sounded so human, it was almost as if he was another good side of Ron's psyche talking to his currently troubled self. Ron had always wondered what it would be like to frequently see a nice version of himself aside from the one in the mirror at all hours of the day, and aside from the antagonistic one he faced after every miniscule failure. In many ways, Rufus was like that positively human side he never got to see._

_With one last sniffle, Ron began unfolding to his smaller mammalian pal._

_"I love her. I actually love her."_

_Rufus cocked an eyebrow and scratched the top of his head in confusion. "Mm… Zita? Hm?"_

_Ron swayed his head from side to side; too weak to fervently shake it in denial. "No man. Kim. I love Kim."_

_The beady, black eyes shot open in shock as his jaw hit the skin of the knee he sat upon. "KIIIIM?"_

_He began breathing heavily in reaction to hearing the name. "Yeah, (gasp) Kim. I love (gasp) her and I wanted (gasp) to tell her but (gasp) I got to her houseandEricwasthere (gasp) andshedoesn'tlovemeandwhat (gasp) wasIthinking, RUFUUUUS?" Before he could even squeeze out the last syllable, Ron fell forward again and burst into tears._

_Rufus watched as his "master without command" dropped in a heap and cried more over the apparent loss of hope in a relationship that Rufus couldn't even see coming. Him wanting Kim? As long as he'd known Ron (which basically consisted of his entire life with open eyes), Kim had been a best friend, no—_**the**_ best friend and nothing more. A sister rather than a kissy-face accomplice was how Rufus saw it._

_But as Ron sharply inhaled once more that night, it all began to make sense. What single male is always as close to a single female as Ron was with Kim without other intentions blossoming into view? With all the TV Rufus had watched with Ron or without Ron (the kind of soap opera garbage he didn't want anyone knowing he watched religiously), he wondered how he had never seen it coming. On "Buddies" Rusk and Raquelle had wound up getting together in the end. On "Futuranime" the guy from the past and the girl he liked wound up getting together in the end. Even on shows from that kids Mouse-Silhouette channel, the two boy/girl characters always wound up becoming romantically linked at the end of the series._

_What had seemed like a jumping-the-shark ploy now made perfect sense to Rufus. Of course it happened that way on TV: because that was the way it was actually supposed to work out in the end of everything!_

_Realizing the seriousness of the situation by relating it to television situations he knew oh so well, Rufus offered a calming hug to the side of Ron's head and a reassuring "Oh, there there..."_

_The heaves and hollows in Ron's wallowing was almost too much for Rufus who soon began feeling welling emotions of his own coming to the surface. It was almost as if the depression was contagious, and after just minutes of being within the wreckage that was Ron, Rufus began bringing the most horrible of memories to the forefront: his early abandonment via non-protective mother, bullying in his infantile state of existence from older animals in his same encasement, and even moments of such intensity and paralyzing fear on any one of the many missions he had accompanied Ron on. Rufus began shedding small tears of his own as he held tightly onto any available flesh he could grasp._

_Ron stopped crying when he realized he had driven his small friend to similar tears. "Hey buddy!" he began. His voice sounded chipper in the most deceiving way; a parent trying to get their child to stop screaming in a grocery store. "Don't cry! It's all gonna be all right! I swear! I promise!"_

_But he couldn't keep his façade up long before he realized the lie behind his own attempts. Nothing would ever be all right again. Nothing would ever be the same. Never again would he be able to stand in the same room as Kim, much less at her side, without thinking of that kiss she had shared with Eric. Any time spent in the immediate vicinity of her person would be filled with his subconscious obsessing over the mental image of himself hunkered down behind a tree wallowing next to a puddle of his own vomit while Kim shared the most romantic moment of her life with someone who was not him._

_As Ron held his small friend in his arms—resisting the irresistible urge, no—the irresistible _**need**_ to break down again and wallow in his own failure, he happened to look up and spot his angry self standing beside the large mirror he had been prepping himself in front of less than two hours before._

_His doppelganger of sorts was haggard; bags under his eyes were a tell-tale sign of his mental anguish and his resistance from succumbing to certain needs like his better half. His hair was frazzled to represent a night of tossing and turning in bed yet to come. And he wore clothes that would be expected to be found on the floor of a ratty college dorm; sweat stains and wrinkles galore._

_But it wasn't his dark side's dark appearance that caught Ron's attention. It was the picture on the mirror that he was pointing at. Secured between the mirror and the wood border of the reflective slab, the picture was taken at the Possible Family Reunion of 2000. Most of the picture's featured players were wet from just having climbed from the pool to get immortalized in film, and Ron could be found near the exact middle. He was the dripping blonde caught in a mock-headlock from his favorite cousin Jefrey._

_Jefrey could be seen as the older, more successful version of Ron. A dirty blonde with striking good lucks and a fine-chiseled physique from years of strength training with his father. Whereas Ron was somewhere around ten years old at the time, Jefrey had been a wiser, more experienced fifteen. But when the two met at that very reunion, there was an immediate recognition of kinship. The two felt as if they could have been best friends for years before had they only known each other. The two struck up a relationship unlike any that could have ever been imagined between two previously estranged cousins; especially two with an age difference of half a decade._

_As Ron looked at his favorite cousin's smile, he remembered what he had said to him that day upon meeting his mother. Jefrey had taken Ron into the corner of a large room just before his family left for some state on the Western coast. He had told him about their possibly never meeting again. He had told him about how he saw Ron's mother as a cold woman. And he told him that should he ever have any form of trouble with his parents (such as an issue of rejection or disownment), Jefrey would be glad to take him in at any time of the year in any year of his life._

_"Pretty words," whispered Ron as he looked back at the moment. It had always seemed so odd and out of place. What young teenager just tells a family member he's known all of 24 hours that he'll gladly take him in at any moment in time. Ron had shrugged off the comment—hell, he'd entirely forgotten until his intense examination of the picture—but now it seemed so perfect._

_As Ron poked Rufus and pointed to the picture, he began cooking up a half-brain plan to escape his troubles. Maybe just for a year and maybe for the rest of his life; either way, Ron was suddenly intent on moving in with his now adult cousin Jefrey._

V.

Kim ran down the stairs two steps at a time as she made her way into the dining room and finally, the kitchen where she would grab her morning breakfast, meet up with Ron, dish about her night and then leave for the beginning of her day. It was how it always went and the day almost couldn't begin without the morning ritual in Kim's opinion. Kim made her entrance on cloud nine as she placed her hands on the back of her father's chair and leaned forward to place a kiss on his left cheek.

The unexpected entry and pleasantry of his daughter almost caused the thirtysomething doctor to cough up a mouthful of his morning toast and coffee. "Kimmy-cub!" The man looked over at the world-saving heroine and noticed that for the first time in a rather long period of time—almost two seasons to be exact—Kim looked better than the norm; if her normal beauty level was on a scale of 1 to 10, it would be a 7. Whereas today her festive enthusiasm in life coupled with what appeared to be a great night's sleep would rank her at an 11. "You look great this morning!"

KP turned back sharply with the look on her face that suggested she had been caught with her hand in the cookie jar and Mr. Dr. P. suddenly knew what was going on.

"Kim?" The man leaned forward like the cops in the movies with the single light above the interrogation table and cocked an eyebrow. "Is there a new boy we should know about?"

The redhead closed her eyes and realized that the last times she had acted this happy were A) during the moodulator incident when she was infatuated, no—head over heels in love with Ron and B) the authentic fascination with Josh Mankey. The first time she ever spent longer than five minutes in the presence of the "dreamy hunk", the next week was a non-stop series of sensational emotions expressed by the all-too-pleased Kimberly. Her father had taken notice then of her peculiar behavior (thinking at the time that she had been using drugs) and was rather uncomfortable when he found out that her elevated enthusiasm was due in full to "some boy".

If there was one thing in the world that Kim didn't want to have to go through on this delightful morning of pure bliss, it was her father questioning her about any and all possible relationships with boys he deemed not worthy enough for his perfect daughter.

"No Daddy," she answered with a believably false sincerity in her voice. "Boys are icky."

Her father smiled and returned to reading his morning informational; safe in the (false) knowledge that his daughter was still pure as freshly-steamed silk. As such, these were the simple pleasures in life that he lived for. Well that, and Mrs. Possible's certain talents. Mr. Dr. P.'s smile widened.

Kim looked at either ends of the table and quickly noted the awkward absence of the inherently delightful blond boy with whom she usually shared her mornings. As she cocked her brow and turned around to scan the rest of the kitchen, her confusion quickly escalated to a twisted sense of hopelessness. Where was Ron? He was never late, hidden away during or unexplainably missing from their morning routine before the start of school. Hell, even when he was deftly ill he phoned ahead of time endless times over until he reached her to give the news person to person.

Kim spotted her mother making pancakes. "Hey Mom, have you seen Ron?"

The woman turned around and scanned her kitchen as her daughter had mere moments before. "Huh! I guess he's not here this morning!"

"Is he in one of the bathrooms?"

Anne snorted. "No, the boys have each one reserved. Unsuccessful breakfast experiment, last minute showers, bathrooms therefore occupied. I'm surprised you didn't hear the crash!"

But KP didn't notice her mother's explanation. She was worried. Sure, she might have been jumping to conclusions when she settled on a reasoning involving villain-oriented kidnapping, but it was to be expected when the omitted in question was never so much as late in ten years of before-school assembly.

As Kim sipped down her morning orange juice, she began planning her attack plan for the rest of the morning. A) Check school; maybe he got a ride to school and his Ronunicator was broken. B) If not there, call Wade to track his concealed chip. And last but not least, C) If Ron still not acquired, break down in tears and wonder what to do.

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As is with most stories you're apt to find on the pages of I would appreciate if you reviewed after reading. Stay tuned for Part II before everything begins anew for Ronald Stoppable! 


	4. Chap 2 Ron Gone part II: Far Gone & Out

Sorry for the prolonged update. Laziness is a bitch, huh?

It my be obvious, but apparently I need to say it: I do not own Kim Possible. Disney does. I am not doing this for profit (well, other than any and all possible praise I may/SHOULD receive) :)

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CHAPTER TWO – RON GONE II: FAR GONE AND OUT

VI.

_Ron slowly made his way down the hallway; wanting to be silent enough to not awaken his parents. But when he stopped to think, it made no sense to be silent now. He was going to wake them up when he got to their room anyway, right? The obviously heavy-hearted Ron sighed before turning the doorknob and entering his parent's bedroom._

_The first thing that greeted Ron was his father's snoring; loud enough to wake the comatose, it was a truly frightening thing to stumble upon in the night. Next was the twisted mess of sheets that surrounded his mother's sleeping form. One wouldn't guess it from witnessing her in her day-to-day stability, but Mrs. Stoppable was quite the tosser-and-turner after the sun went down. Ron smiled down at his parents as they slept with total peace; not knowing the bomb that was about to be dropped upon them._

_Finally Ron spoke up. "Hey, mom? Dad?"_

_Nothing. The two continued sleeping in their parallel midnight worlds. Undoubtedly the two lovebirds ran through the same dream-world; she would reflect the shining sun in her eyes and he would be able to run and skip like he used to. They would frolic hand-in-hand through an endless field of flowers that bloomed under the never-ending sunlight._

_"Mom? Dad?"_

_The two began twitching ever so slightly. His snoring stopped for a second and slowly began picking up. She kicked at the blankets surrounding her feet and began to roll over in her sleep._

_As a single tear began rolling silently down his cheek, Ron spoke up. "_MOM. DAD_."_

_The two shot up in bed and Mr. Stoppable was the first to pull the drawstring on his bedside reading lamp. Mrs. Stoppable—for a split instance—began pushing up against the backboard of their double-wide bed. She was expecting a burglar to shoot them in the night and had instead only been startled awake by her son. As she looked at her son, she knew something was wrong. But the woman still would have preferred he solved his own problems on his own time. She knew it wasn't the crabbiness of waking in the middle of night talking; she genuinely seemed disinterested in her one and only child at most hours of the day._

_"Ronald," began his father. "Wh-what is the matter?" He strained his eyes and looked over at the clock on his bedside table. The digital numerals were exposed clearly in the bask of the lamp's light. "Ronald, what could be so wrong at 2:30 in the morning?"_

_Instead of taking the concerned route, his mother asked, "And what couldn't wait until the morning?"_

_Ron sniffled and wiped away the tear he had only just become aware of. "Um, I would like to talk to you about possibly, uh, going away for a while." He sniffled once more and it was easy to see he was trying to hold back a(nother) flow of tears. "I want to, uh, live with cousin—you remember Jefrey? It only had one 'f'. Just like that song from, uh, the band I like—"_

_"Ronald you're babbling. But I think I still know what you're talking about." Ron looked up at his mother (his eyes previously cast upon his feet) and sniffled. The woman reached over and grabbed her glasses of the bedside table. She wanted to be able to look Ron in the eye and see if he was serious about what he was proposing or if he was just trying to garner some attention. "You're upset with your life here and you want to go live with your cousin—and yes, I remember—Jefrey?"_

_The blond mother stared down her blond son and a moment Bob Dylan would be proud of occurred _(get it? "Blonde on Blonde"? is this thing on?)_. Mrs. Stoppable didn't need to be corrected. She knew she had what Ron was sending down pat. All that was necessary was his simple response in the form of a head-nod or his looking away. He might even have enough of a backbone to keep his head raised and reply "Yes"._

_Mr. Stoppable only looked onward as his son tackled his mother head-on with a mental resistance to her usual wait-and-break tactics of past. She would use her intimidating presence to loom over the expectant son before crushing his wishes under her foot as he broke down and admitted he didn't need anything but her love in the end. As much as he loved his son, he loved his wife that much more and couldn't come between her constant collisions with their relatively headstrong son._

_Much to the shock of both elder parties, Ron not only kept his head raised, he also walked towards them and began giving an explanation. "Yes I do. No—I don't want to, I _NEED_ to. I can't stay here. Mom? Dad? I'm in love with Kim and I just can't bare to stay here while she strolls along with her perfect boyfriend Eric and tramples unknowingly over my heart. I just can't do it."_

_Ron's father closed his eyes while his wife smiled. He spoke up first. "It took you long enough to figure it out boy!" He chuckled softly._

_But where the father respected his son's damaged emotions in stopping after a soft chuckle, Mrs. Stoppable dove head-first into a pool of giggles and guffaws. She couldn't believe that her son had only just come to the realization of his expected emotions concerning the girl he spent day and night involved with. Could it really take a teen so long to grasp the idea that the reason he stays at the side of the girl so out of his league was because he wanted her to love him? Anybody who knew the kids would be lying to admit they didn't know this day would come. But said people would also be hard-pressed to imagine something as bad as this turning out because of it._

_"Ron, this kind of thing happens all the time. A boy realizes that the girl he likes as a friend has breasts and suddenly wants to be with her. It's okay son! Really, it is. You just need to learn that she will never settle for a modest boy like you." Ron looked like he hadn't only been slapped in the face, but like he had also been kicked and beaten to the point of collapsing into a pile of nails. "That nice girl is a pretty girl and should not be strapping herself down to a relative nothing like you. I'm sorry to say it Ronald, but it's the truth. A pretty girl will never settle for the boy who says he likes her. She just won't Ron. And the sooner you realize that, the sooner you will be able to drop those feelings and move along. Because I do believe that while she will never date you, Kimberly will gladly stay your friend until you part ways at graduation."_

_If Ron had just had his emotions shoved down his throat in such an act of unbridled carelessness for his feelings by anyone but his mother, the usually peaceful Ron would have handed their asses to them by way of fist in face. But seeing as how the insulter before him was the woman who had once spent 14 hours in labor with his birth, he couldn't do anything but feel hurt and keep the look of shocked pain plastered on his quivering face._

_"Mom, I, I…," Ron grasped desperately at straws, searching his hardest for any possible words he could emit to describe his feelings. As he scanned his mental dictionary searching for the words to tell his mother how betrayed he felt at the exact moment and how he felt that some things should be kept to herself, Ron happened to look over to the side of his parent's bed._

_There stood his other half. Ron worried for a second that Bastard Stoppable would startle his parents with his sudden appearance, and then mentally kicked himself for being so stupid (for having had the mean alter identity for near all of his life, Ron had yet to become used to the man he had coined as Bastard since earlier that night). The alter-ego still looked exhausted with a night of worried thinking and depressive mental activity. But unlike Ron, he stood beside Ron's mother laughing his ass off._

_Tears strolled down his face before he reached up to wipe his eyes and said, "Holy shit dude! I had NO IDEA she could bite so deep!" Ron was just as shocked, but wasn't shaken into laughter. Instead he stood at the end of his parents' bedroom staring agape at his careless mother while silent tears began running down either side of his face like the Indian in the old public service announcements._

_Blink once. Blink twice. Ron still burned._

_He could have stayed in that room and straightened out his spine. He could have yelled at her and stood up for himself for once. He could have walked towards the bed with his finger pointed at her in an exaggerated accusatory fashion like all the characters in movies who ever rebelled against their parents. But instead, Ron turned his back and silently left the room._

_Bastard yelled down the hall as he walked away. "I KNEW IT! YOU'RE NOTHING! YOU'RE NOTHING! WALK COWARD! WALK!" Then the dark half began cackling loud enough to shake the rafters of the strongest foundation. His laughs and insults flew in a whirlwind of insecurity. Ron sniffled and bit his lip as the flow of tears once again returned. The hot sting of fluid emission and the emotional stab of his own negative emotions laughing him away._

_And while he knew all along that his other half's laughing wasn't real, after a few seconds he began to question whether the chortling he heard coming from his mother was real as well._

VII.

As the scooter began pulling into the parking lot of Middleton High School, Kim didn't even bother reading the billboard she usually found weird connections with in her day-to-day life on. She didn't bother looking around to see if she had beat Monique to school. She didn't bother to make sure Barkin was not within sight so as to avoid any unnecessary interaction with me. She didn't even bother waiting for Eric to come to a complete stop before she jumped off her back seat as if in complete "action mode".

Eric took the keys out of the ignition and turned back; expecting her to be standing quietly behind him with her hands clasped together in her lap supporting her helmet while she smiled at him. But when the teen heartthrob found himself staring at empty space, it didn't take too long to realize she had up and left him behind with his machine. The boy felt a sudden pang of jealousy for whatever she felt was so important.

Kim took off running into the school with her already-removed helmet under her right arm. She pushed past the crowds of students who huddled around the main entrance. One yelled something about the redhead hitting their elbow with her helmet, but KP didn't take notice. Kim turned a corner and was in the hallway that contained her (and Ron's) locker on the other end. She took off into a crazed run that would have made cheetahs jealous.

While she was running she had time to mentally contemplate why she was so worried. She had seemingly gone from riding on a high from the night previous to running after a missing man in under five minutes. Sure, Ron was her best friend, but that meant nothing under the circumstances. He could have been her boyfriend and it wouldn't mean anything that he simply hadn't arrived at her house that morning. When Kim looked back at her morning, she realized that she hadn't even bothered simply calling his house.

Why didn't she simply call? The answer was obvious. She didn't call because he was so loyal, he would have called first. The absence of a warning call on his part meant that there couldn't have been one sent and the idea that Ron couldn't make contact with her scared Kim more than anything she had ever encountered in her life of continent-hopping and villain-fighting.

The Possible teen didn't have to finish the run to her locker. She could see from where she stood (halfway down the eternity of doors and lockers) that Ron was not standing by the blue door that opened to her school closet of sorts. Ron was not standing there devotedly waiting on her every word and she was nowhere closer to finding the boy she desperately loved; if only in a platonic manner. Kim could feel tears forming in the back of her eyes and the heated sting that comes with oncoming tearshed.

"Kim!"

The girl in question turned to see Eric jogging down the hallway to catch up to her.

"Eric!" When the boy reached her, he expected an explanation. But instead of a reasoning for her ditching, he was given orders. "I need you to check D-hall for Ron!"

"Uh…?" Eric's voiced confusion reminded Kim of how new he still was to the school. "Kim, D-hall?"

"Oh." Kim grabbed his arm and pointed him in the direction of another faceless hallway. "It's that one down there. Make a left and scan around for me." Kim didn't even bother with her usual "please and thank you".

Eric slid his hands in his pockets and began begrudgingly making his way for the hall. He didn't like whatever had gotten into Kim this morning and hoped that it didn't happen often. He liked the girl. He REALLY liked the girl, but if she was this high-maintenance, he almost didn't want to bother.

Kim watched Eric slump his head and halfheartedly walk away; his anger reminding her of a pouting child. If she wasn't so preoccupied with Ron, she would have been reminded of the Tweebs as children. Kim wasted no time worrying about his emotions before she grabbed the Kimunicator and pushed her finger down firmly on the blue "call" button. A split second of black and white static, before the shiny, happy image of Wade popped up on the tiny screen.

"Hey Kim! What's—" The pre-teen super genius stopped his enthusiastic greeting mid-sentence when he noticed the look of dread on the attractive heroine's face. When Kim called, she would sometimes look perturbed; even sometimes downright pissed. But she never looked quite as desperate and buried in depression as she did now. Wade knew that something was horribly wrong.

"Wade, I need you to tell me where Ron is."

Wade went silent. He wondered if she was simply hoping he had heard from Ron before he had (apparently) gone missing. He wondered if she was asking him to check the security camera tapes at Bueno Nacho, P.J. Bearimore's, or any one of the other hangouts he frequently frequented. He even wondered if she was thinking he was somehow with Wade at that very second. But deep inside he knew that she had somehow found out about the tracking chips he had implanted in them and was telling him to track Ron's. And as he looked into Kim's dependently expectant eyes, he knew that he was going to have to face the facts.

"Kim, I'm sorry about the chips. I don't know how you found out but I would never—"

Kim gritted her teeth and ran her fingers through her hair before stopping the boy abruptly. "Wade. I'm not upset about the tracking chips." She sounded so calm and cool it was almost scary. "Mine fell off sometime last year when I was in the shower and I put two and two together. I'm not going to scream about how immoral it was, or I would have already done it." She lowered her head and looked him straight in the eyes. "This is very important. I need you to find out where Ron is for me."

Wade turned his head after staring her down with a solemn expression on his face for a few seconds. He typed furiously at the keyboard for a while before saying without turning his head, "Kim, you know that there are moral ramifications for tracking his location. Ron's privacy is probably very important to him and if he knew that we were tracking down his whereabouts he might have reason to complain and—"

"Wade?" The boy turned to the monitor. "You are in no place to tell me about moral circumstances."

Wade's face turned a beat red before he turned back to his progress. A warm smile of accomplishment wrapped itself around his face as he hit one last key on his keyboard. As she waited for him to tell her the good news, Kim briefly wondered why he never seemed to use his mouse. Maybe he had rendered the device obsolete and had moved all the hardware to excess keys on his keyboard.

"Got it! Ron is currently at 49634 Meadow—wait…" Wade turned to the screen as he and the redheaded teen came to the same conclusion. "Ron's at his house!"

Kim gave a delayed "thank you" and was about to turn off her Kimunicator when she heard Wade's voice.

"WAIT! WAIT!" Kim sighed and pulled the device back up into her eyesight. "Kim! He's in his backyard! And he's not moving!"

A flash of red hair and the teen was shooting towards D-hall. She seemed to grab Eric by his collar and lift him out of his looming state of affairs as she told him to drive her to Ron's house.

"Kim, we're going to be late for our first hour!"

Kim almost didn't seem to notice that he was talking. He probably could have been an entirely different person from the one she had intended to grab and she wouldn't have noticed. The girl who could do anything was intent on getting to the Possible residence and rescuing a possible passed-out Ronald Stoppable.

VIII.

Ron sighed deeply.

"Why do planes have to take forever to board? I mean, they can fly you halfway across an entire state in the same amount of time it takes to refuel the piece of junk after a previous flight." Ron turned to his other half. "Your views and/or opinions?"

The user-friendly Ron was given nothing but an annoyed stare and a pessimistic grunt from a reading Bastard Stoppable. The stiff characterization of his own negativity made Ron chuckle.

"I've got to be crazy."

Bastard stayed intent on his reading and mumbled something along the lines of "You can say that again."

Ron—intent on not being brought down by his other side's cynicism—cocked his head and began rubbing his chin. He could swear he felt rubble, but that didn't matter to him now. "You know what? I'm already tired of the name Bastard for you. How about something different? Something more plausible for a nonexistent identity deformity"

Bastard put down his magazine (Hallucinated Asshole's Quarterly) and looked up and glared at Ron. "I didn't even know you were calling me Bastard, you dick."

Ron smiled. He had to admit: as much as he hated this other side of himself, the interplay would make a great sitcom. He silently flipped through his mental book of names. The idents of kids from grades and classes previous came to mind. Celebrities first names. Estranged family members. Fictional characters from TV shows (fitting, considering the nonexistence of both the named and yet-to-be). But none of the names he was able to muster would work.

And then he decided that he would conjure up a yet-to-be-created word to serve as a name for the yet-to-be-named personality crisis. He pondered over words to describe Bastard. There was mean, unkind, nasty, callous, malicious, despicable (Donald Duck's personal favorite), unpleasant; but none of these could be worked into a name. Then he thought about his grandpa. One time during a visit to his grandparent's house, Ron had accidentally spilled the mashed potatoes onto the floor while passing them down. His grandfather had responded to the incident by calmly calling Ron a little punk before cleaning up the mess on all fours.

Ron. Punk. Ronk? Rank? Pon?

"Runk."

The freshly-named Runk looked up. "Hm?"

"Runk. That's your new name." Ron smiled as he saw the discontent in his internal rival's expression. "It's short and sweet for a small being in the mind of a rather pleasant individual. It's even kind of demeaning! Don't you think?"

Runk slapped an over-exaggerated frown on his face and replied, "Runk? That sounds like British slang for garbage! You can't name me that you piece of shit!"

Ron held up his finger. "Ah, ah, ah! You mean, 'you piece of runk!' Ha!" Runk held up his one-finger salute and Ron responded by throwing his head back in cackling laughter.

The excitement died down and Ron went back to waiting patiently for his flight to board. It was going to be a small plane, he knew; maybe a 48-seater. From looking around the terminal at the mere couple-dozen people Ron could tell that he might even be able to get an entire row of seats to himself, Runk, and Rufus. Ron chuckled. He didn't realize until now, but he and Rufus had the same initials (assuming he had adopted he last name Stoppable to fit his owner) and now so did Runk. Except RS in Runk's case might stand for Runk Spiteful. Or Runk Shithead. Or Runk Supportive. Ron chuckled again.

Just as he had minutes previous and minutes before then (and so on, and so forth), Ron sighed deeply.

Luckily the cheery voice of a flight attendant finally came over the intercom and sounded to the few waiting for a direct flight to Spokane, Washington. "Flight 69 to Spokane, Washington will now be boarding any and all first class passengers." She probably could have shouted—hell, she probably could have simply said the previous announcement and everyone would have heard and clearly understood.

Ron was surprised first when he found out that the plane flying them all to Spokane was actually a full air-liner and not a miniature air-cruiser as was expected. He was then subsequently surprised when he found that he was the only person walking forward to be seated in the first class section. Smiling at his great fortune, Ron suddenly realized that his new life might actually be getting off to a great start. This time, Ron might actually get a chance to live the life of someone not constantly bogged down by their own misfortune and horrible placement in the world. He might be surrounded by a family of sorts who would actually love him for who he was and not was he was supposed to be in their eyes. He might excel in schools without the constant pressure of impressing his parents.

He might even be able to find a nice girl to fall in love with again.

Ron stepped aboard the plane and made his way into the first six rows of seats. They were reclinable, and not in that piss-poor way that coach seats were. You could actually touch the ground behind you with your head if you so desired without disturbing the person seated behind you. And from the looks of it, he might even get to set Rufus inside of the cup-holder on the side of the seat without his being discovered by the flight crew (High Noon Airlines had a problem with bringing animals onboard any and all public flights).

Ron took a seat and began watching as the other passengers destined for their cramped seats began filing by. They all looked down at him with resentment in their eyes and for a second, Ron wondered whether or not he should have gotten the seat. But any questions of spending were quickly shelved when he remembered how uncomfortable he was all of the times he had flown in coach on family vacations and various missions with Kim. The blond smiled as he thought of how miniscule the cost was when compared to his vast savings in his Naco royalty account.

Ron stroked the head of Rufus; their predetermined signal which implied he was able to quickly scurry into the open before finding a place to hide and relax for the duration of the flight. The naked mole-rat jumped out of the cargo pocket and ran doggedly to the large cup-holder seemingly designed to hold movie theater popcorn buckets. Along with a small piece of cloth, Rufus made his way into the empty space and curled up to catch some more sleep. But not before craning his neck upward and smiling while flashing Ron a big thumbs-up.

"Well this is nice, I guess." Ron looked over at Runk who was trying hard to not look so pleased with their seating arrangement. He pushed himself back into the seat and began reclining as he closed his eyes and tried falling asleep. "Wake me up when we get there."

"Or what? You'll be left behind? Doomed to fly the air on High Noon Flight 69 until the end of times?" Ron turned his head as did Runk when they finally realized that they were flying on an airplane with the codename of 69. The taboo numbers brought a smile to both of their faces and a heart laugh to Ron's lips.

"Well guys," began Ron; addressing both Rufus and Runk. "Waiting on the other end of this flight is cousin Jef and a new life. I hope we're ready for it."

Rufus soaked in the poignant statement before taking a second to question his master's logic. What had he meant by 'guys'? Rufus shrugged off the comment as just another oddity for his peculiar master and pulled his eye-mask down; blocking out all light from keeping him connected to the land of the awake.

The three beings (real and not) leaned back in their seats and prepared to fall asleep; ready for the fresh start awaiting in five hours.

IX.

Eric was startled by Kim's sudden hop off the back of his scooter, and the surprise was evident as he veered to the left while squeezing the brake; kicking up dirt and gravel that covered Ron's mailbox.

"Oops!" Eric hoped the family wouldn't notice. He may not ever meet them, but he still didn't want them to ever resent his existence. He was a world-pleaser that way.

Kim meanwhile kicked up dirt herself as she dashed into the backyard. She was sweating and praying that Ron would be fine. She knew in the back of her head that she would arrive in the backyard and Ron would simply be laying in the grass looking up at the clouds, or in a tent from the night before still sleeping in with Rufus. But Kim knew that she wouldn't find Ron passed out or dead in the grass behind his house. Or so she hoped.

Instead, the redhead stopped in the fenced-off area of land behind the quaint Stoppable home and looked around. There was nothing in the backyard. There wasn't a swing set, a tool shed, a bird-feeder, a tree with another treehouse in it, there wasn't even a large rock of some kind obstructing the homeowner's mowing path. The grass was clean-cut and there was nothing in the area to be found.

Kim's hands were shaking as she grabbed for her Kimunicator. She pressed the blue "call" button and looked at the screen. It was blurry, so Kim tried wiping it off. But she soon discovered that the blurry obstruction was the sheet of tears welling up in her eyes. Kim blinked away the salty water and looked into the screen. There sat Wade, looking back at her crying form and wondering what was wrong.

"Kim. Ron isn't, he isn't… is he?"

Kim violently shook her head in response. "No Wade. He isn't dead. But he's also not here!" Her voice was getting high and desperate for answers. She was so afraid, she didn't know how to respond. Ron Stoppable had always been there for her. There had never been a moment in their 13-plus-year relationship where he had been unexplainably absent from her presence and it frightened her. Goddammit, it brought her to tears and made her a panicking mess.

"Wade, check again! Where the hell is he? WHERE IS RON?"

Wade went to work at his keyboard, but reported back with the same news as before. "Kim, my readings are telling me that he's in that backyard right next to you." Then the ground seemingly fell away from Wade's feet. "Wait… you told me that yours fell off?"

Kim bit her lip and replied, "Well, it's kind of embarrassing, but it more or less fell OUT."

Wade squinted in disgust and replied, "Well, maybe Ron's chip… maybe it came out as well. Come to think of it, it does seem like the backyard would be the perfect place for an underground septic tank."

Kim clamped her eyes shut one last time. She bit her bottom lip so bad it bled, but she didn't care or even notice. She fell to her knees and was about to collapse to the ground before Eric magically appeared from nowhere (i.e. the front yard where she left him) and caught her mid-fall. He pulled her in as she placed her hand on his shoulder and began weeping.

Her final words before she fell into an inescapable downward spiral of depression were "**WHERE IS RON?**" When no answer came from mid-air or the Kimunicator at her feet, she fell into Eric's shoulder agaiun and didn't pull away for hours.

X.

Ron turned in his sleep.

The teenage blond silently opened his eyes and (as he entered conscious thought again) wondered if Kim had noticed his absence yet.

"She's probably too caught up in her man-hunk loverboy Eric." Ron looked over at Runk who was pulling a blanket back up over his shoulders as he rolled back into sleep.

"Yeah," began Ron with a solemn and silently-accepting demeanor. "You're probably right."


	5. Chap 3 Family Reunion

Here it is; this has been previously published, but I decided to make some subtle changes that pleased me greatly. So if you've been reading my story, here's something you may have already read. And if you haven't, then please: sit back with a cup of hot cocoa and enjoy. ...And then review.

P.S. I do not, nor have I ever owned Kim Possible and all characters entailed with the product.

* * *

CHAPTER THREE – FAMILY REUNION

I.

_A plain of ecstasy. Pure delight and elation flowed through her veins and into her heart, which was surely going to burst from the pure passion and rush of emotion. A smile on her face and a moan escaping her mouth as tears ran down either side of her face. But they weren't painful tears. There was no pain or sadness or anger or negative sensation at all inside Kim Possible. The heroine was perfectly dipped in enchantment and she never wanted to come down from her high._

_This state of supreme gratification was all due to Eric's naked form above her; thrusting and grinding softly into her flesh while she gripped tightly onto his shoulder blades. He sweated droplets of success onto her neck and they proceeded to roll off onto their white bed of roses. They breathed, moaned, gasped and moved as one fully-functional machine of satisfaction._

_And all the while, Ron hung high above in a straight-jacket of thorny vines that wrapped him entirely in helplessness. He screamed at the top of his lungs and tried to close his eyes, but his yells of protest went unheard and his eyelids remained held open by sharp thorns piercing the thin ocular-protective flesh._

"_NO KIM! YOU CAN'T DO THIS! NOOOOO!"_

_Soon a large vine shot out of nowhere and rammed itself down Ron's throat. His eyes shot open with surprise as he coughed and gagged; trying to force the weed out without the use of his enslaved limbs. Like a living creature, the vine slithered and plodded its way down the blonde's throat while he coughed up blood and thin traces of stomach acids._

_Wriggling and writhing in his entombment of stabbing wild flowers, Ron's tears flowed until the teen was waterlogged. His body became frail as his fat turned to water and left his body through his eyes. Muscles, vascular tissues, organs: all turned to liquid and exited his form in a march of exiting existence (if not existence altogether, certainly livelihood)._

_Then Ron's eyes opened wider than they ever had before at the site of his one true love opening her mouth and finding nothing to express but peak of bliss in a piercing pleasure scream. The sound was beautiful and Ron had dreamt before of her making it while they gave each other their virginities. She would scream and he would grit his teeth as they climaxed in unison. Eyes of green would meet eyes of amber and the lovebirds would collapse into each other for the rest of eternity._

_This was not how it was supposed to happen. The blood drying in Kim's thighs and Eric's crotch was supposed to be for Ron and Kim. Not that Ron wanted nothing more than to "pop Kim's cherry". He wanted the rupturing of her hymen to be a door being kicked open for their relationship and the path they would share for the rest of their lives._

_This moment was supposed to be between the redhead and Ron._

"_Ron."_

_Ron looked down at the beautiful, exasperated woman currently rubbing Eric's back. She had a look plastered on her face like something you'd expect to see on Bonnie after a victory against an enemy. A look of success being rubbed in another person's face. This was not the Kim that Ron had tried to protect that day in pre-K. This was not the Kim that Ron had worked with for nearly all of their lives. This was not the Kim that Ron had loved._

"_Yes?" His voice was barely louder than a pin dropping on carpet in a hall of partying ruffians. It sounded just about as strong too._

"_Ron, why would I EVER share this kind of experience with you?" Her voice was spite given sound. "I'm a pretty girl! I shouldn't be strapping myself down to a relative nothing like you!" Ron's mother's words coming from Kim's mouth. She was right. Instead of just being nasty and cruel to her son, Mrs. Possible had been correct. "Girls like me don't just give themselves—"_

_Ron mouthed the rest unknowingly, as if in acceptance. "—to the first nerd who says he likes them."_

_The helpless loveless felt like arguing back. He felt like screaming something along the lines of "what about the moodulator incident?" and following it at the top of his lungs with "you said there were FIREWORKS!" But he couldn't bring himself to be anything more than the heavyweight's last losing bout before retirement._

_The heartbroken, no—heart-shattered teen closed his eyes and emitted one last tear. One drop of salty discharge ran down the bridge of his nose and fell into eternity after separating from his form. Ron was no more. All that was left now was a frail line of dead flesh and dried out hopes and dreams. The ashes of what was once a fine human being blew into the wind as Kim's cackling laughter filled the void of his existence._

II.

Ron lunged forward in his seat and swung his head from side to side. Sweat beads running down his forehead; the teen tried to figure out where he was. Just seconds before he had been absolute nothingness blowing into the wind. Now he seemed to be sprawled out in a rather comfortable seat with the feeling of compression inside his head.

"Yo, dumbass." Ron looked over and found Runk sitting in the seat next to him in the process of kicking off his blanket. The dark half turned to face his creator and calmly stated, "You were dreaming. It wasn't real. She's not like that. You have to pee."

Ron's breathing and heartbeat slowed down as he dropped his head and fell into the conclusion all over again that he would never spend his life with the woman he so desperately loved. His head perked up again when he felt a tingling "down yonder" and realized that Runk knew a lot more then he let on.

The blonde stood from his seat and began walking to the bathroom conveniently located one row ahead of him. Still nodding off sleep, Ron pushed the door open, squeezed inside through the two-foot-wide entrance and inhaled the antiseptic scent of airplane bathroom. After a quick cough, Ron got to unzipping and relieving. His eyes closed and a smile slowly crawled over his face as the pain in his bladder from holding in the yellow liquid slowly subsided and made way for contempt in finding some good vibrations in life.

Shake once, shake twice, (the song says three times and you're playing with it). Ron looked to the left and the right before shaking a third time. The grinning buffoon didn't bother with washing his hands; he rarely did when he didn't need to impress somebody with his posed cleanliness, or didn't need to worry about any unsavory smells being carried back out of the bathroom on his hands (i.e. Ron unsuccessful wiping and instead smearing his fingers with… you get the point).

A soft "ding" rang in his ears before the sound of the captain came over the intercom speaker.

"We, uhhh, will be slowly making our descent soon into, uhhhh, Spokane soon enough here and, uhhh, would greatly appreciate your seated and buckled selves descending along with us." A soft chuckle from the captain and nobody else. "But all, uhhh, jokes aside, the captain is turning on the, uhhh, seatbelt sign and would like to ask that the passengers put their tray tables up and, uhhhh, put their seats back in their full up-right position. Thank you. We will be landing, uhhh, shortly."

Ron grinned as he thought about how stereotypical it was for captains flying planes to always have the grinding, low voice accompanied with the every-other-word pauses and "uh"s. Was that racism of a sort on Ron's part? Did pilots constitute their own "race"? It's just another profession; just another nine-to-five, right? The thought reminded him of that joke he had once heard in Shop class.

Q: What do you call a black person flying a plane?

Joke-receiver: …

A: A pilot, you racist!

A bang sounded on the door and Ron almost went to pull it open in fear of being thrown off the plane for not abiding the rules before Runk's voice spoke up. "Yes, the joke is a canned laugh riot and we are all pleased to hear it, but seriously Ron? Either you need to finish beating your meat in there, or make your way back to the goddamn seat already. The rat's probably worried."

Ron splashed water from the faucet onto his face and wiped it off with airplane paper towels apparently made from the roughest of raw wooden material. After checking his face for cuts in the mirror, the blonde pushed the door open and began making his rocky way back to the seat. As he stumbled back, Ron could swear he felt someone watching him; a side effect of the Mystical Monkey Powers he so secretly hid.

His head turned for a split second; so fast even a hummingbird might have missed the movement.

"Holy shit! I think that stewardess was looking at me! Like, desiringly!"

Runk snorted from the seat mere feet ahead of Ron and replied, "Well first off, they're flight attendants you disrespectful bastard. Second, I honestly doubt that 'desiringly' is a word. And third off, maybe you're trailing T.P." The imagination-figment smiled when he caught Ron quickly brushing at his butt while looking for stray squares of paper; knowing the whole time that Ron didn't even use toilet paper during his trip to the lavatory.

Ron sat in his seat and as he pulled it forward, a sigh could be heard escaping from his mouth.

"I'm really glad this flight is over. That last four hours were ridiculously boring."

Runk didn't bother pulling his seat back up as he replied, "You can say them shits again."

Ron momentarily wondered whether or not the seat next to his supposedly containing Runk was even reclined. Was that in his mind as well? How far was he taking this imaginary anti-companion thing? Was he going to become like the main character in so many movies who realizes they're crazy when their fellow protagonist turns out to be a fiction of their imaginations in the final reel? Was he going to drive himself completely insane watching the other him interact with the world? Ron rubbed his temples. His head hurt.

It seemed like looking back hundreds of years, but Ron recalled Kim's face and remembered the various times when he wondered whether or not he should have told her about his schizophrenic hallucination. He often wanted distraughtly for her to tell him that he was still perfectly sane and not to worry. The man was just Ron's form of vocalizing his negative feelings. Ron could hear Kim saying the nice and comforting words while she either a) rubbed his back while they sat up in heir old treehouse, or b) said the words sarcastically with Eric's lips tracing kisses down her neck.

Ron's already-closed eyelids clamped down even harder at the painful images his mind concocted to hurt him. It was too painful to think of Kim. He really needed to stop.

"For your information," began Runk. "The seat's up-right."

Ron chuckled as he felt his head compressing due to the airplane finally making its Washington descent.

III.

The six-foot-something man with short, dirty blonde (almost brown) hair that spiked up like an ocean wave near the front of his head stood silently with his arms crossed and his hundred-yard stare focused intently on the large opening in the airport lobby wall. His cousin Ronald was supposed to be walking through that monstrous access any second now. He wasn't known for being an easily excitable man, but when he heard from Ron nearly a dozen hours before, it was the most ecstatic and energized his friends had ever seen him. He didn't bother asking then why the teen suddenly wanted to stay with him because he knew that he probably wouldn't want to talk about such things. So instead Jefrey had readily accepted him with wide, open arms and an eye on what the future held in store.

The six-foot-something man with short, dirty blonde (almost brown) hair stood on his tippy-toes and looked forward; too excited for Ron's arrival for words to describe.

IV.

Ron jerked back in his seat as the plane's brakes finally locked and the flying behemoth came to its first stop in four and a half hours. Without a carry-on to slow him down, Ron excitedly grabbed Rufus out of his comforting nook and slid him into his cargo pockets—much to the animal's detest, as heard by his angry and surprised snickering noises and silent screaming. But Ron didn't notice Rufus and his abomination.

The teen stood up out of his seat and began hurriedly making his way through the aisle and to the exit door of the flight. His steps seemed like slow-motion strides through enveloping quicksand, but—even though he knew he was angry at his seemingly slow movements—the large smile squeezing his face couldn't disappear. Somewhere in the back of his head, he heard Runk yelling that the flight attendants all thought he looked like an excited retard running down the aisle to marry another delightfully festive mentally insufficient. But Ron didn't notice his negative's antagonizing comments.

The pilot opened the large door and Ron found himself looking at the uninviting carpet-walls of the connecting "contained hallway". Up the twisting walkway he ran; excited beyond comprehension at the thought of reconnecting with his (as it felt to him) long-lost cousin. His mind was lost amidst a cloud of dreams and ideas of what the future held in store. The blonde didn't even think about Kim; the first straight minute that this could be said of his thought-path in the last week.

If there had been massive crowds of people stepping as a crowded whole foot by foot to the exit, Ron could have sprouted wings and soared directly over them. He could have begun swinging his arms before systematically beating every single one of the bystanders to a bloody pulp if it meant his getting to his cousin quicker. Not that he would ever really resort to such tactics to arrive in the company of a loved one sooner. Even if that loved one was as awesome as Jefrey.

The makings of an airport terminal were forming in the exit of the walkway up ahead and Ron nearly peed himself. Why was he this excited? It made no sense. Never before had he shown such anticipation and excitement for the meeting of a single person. If he was meeting his father for the first time, he could just barely see himself being this anticipant.

Jefrey may have been really great back when Ron spent the day with him at a family reunion, but did that account for this level of exhilaration? Did that account for Ron's current animated level of joy? It didn't add up in the back of his head.

"Maybe it's more than him just being a great cousin."

Ron looked back at Runk—who seemed to be walking just as fast as Ron jogged—and pondered over the suggestion. What did he mean?

"I mean, come on. I may not be a licensed psychological interpreter, or ever be such with your resistance to intelligence, but it's pretty obvious even to a child that you're making Jef out to be something more than just an intriguing human being to you."

Ron cocked his head and eyebrow. He was confused. He was thinking. His head hurt.

"Jefrey is to you as the great white was to Captain Ahab."

Captain Ahab. Why did that sound familiar? Ron seemed to remember Kim telling him that he was the main character in some book they were supposed to be reading in English class years ago. How was it that Runk was able to dig so deep in Ron's memories when Ron HIMSELF couldn't do as such when actually prompted.

Runk rolled his eyes and sighed. "Symbolism fuck-tard, symbolism. Jefrey is the realized form of all your wishes for a new and better life. He represents a chance at something new. He is not just a relative you haven't seen in a long time. He is not just a cousin you had a great time with oh so many years ago. He is your great escape."

Ron slowed down and realized that Runk was right. Jefrey was still great, but now he didn't feel so inclined to running like a maniac to reach him. He calmed down, his heart rate slowed, and his feet made slower strides. As the existing blonde turned back to his destination, he wondered how Runk could be so smart when Ron was just a simpleton in comparison. Maybe Runk would come in handy during any sort of symbolism exam in future English classes. Maybe the bastard wasn't so bad after all.

Ronald crossed the threshold of the claustrophobic connecting hall and looked out at the crowded airport terminal. After frowning and standing on his tip-toes to look for Jefrey, Ron began worrying. Had Jefrey not come to pick him up? What if he didn't want Ron to stay with him after all? Was this his way of telling him that he wasn't welcome? Was he going to have to climb right back on the next flight home and kiss his every dream of a better life goodbye with it?

Runk nearly fell over with laughter from somewhere behind Ron.

"Dear God! Rejection makes you quite the negative camper, huh?"

Without even bothering to look back, Ron made the face of disgust that doubled as a face of confusion and a prompt for an explanation. Someone may have been looking at the seemingly lost teenage blonde emerging from the airplane, but said teen didn't notice or care had he noticed.

"Jesus Christ boy-o! This is post 9-11 America we're living in! Jefrey probably couldn't make it past security being just a pick-up and ride! He's waiting for you at the gates, I PROMISE!"

Ron looked down at his shoes and bit his lip. He could really be stupid sometimes. And conclusion-jumpy-to. Or something like that.

He silently muttered a "thanks" and heard a reluctant "no problem".

People bunched close to make way for the emerging passengers making their individual ways to and fro for various destinations. A pretty Asian girl's rolling luggage lost a wheel and she hurriedly tried to collect everything that fell from the broken suitcase. A businessman strolled over to the closest magazine stand and bought a coffee and an Esquire before making his way back for the seats for a connector flight. A little boy ran from his mother for a bathroom while his exasperated mother carried his bag and hers in two whilst following. By some hiccup of fate, one of the emerging passengers recognized the face of an ongoing passenger from High School and joyous screams of surprise followed.

And an attractive eighteen-year-old blonde with a skip in his step and a naked rodent of some type hitching a ride on his shoulder made their way to the airport lobby.

V.

Kim eventually made her crying way back to school with Eric; determined to finish the day as she had nearly every one that preceded it in her High School career. Even through missions and interruptions, she was always back to collect the day's learning and go on with her further education. She was never the kind of student who looked forward to snow days and water main breakings. Kim lived for school because it was one more step in moving forward to a better plain of existence. Finishing day after day in school meant moving on to better things with a well-earned education on her side.

But today (a Thursday) just so happened to be the first day she ever had to seriously consider taking the rest of the day off to go over her life's current crises. The redhead almost didn't want to go back to those somewhat lonelier halls and the smell of disinfectant and perfume. The chitter-chatter of catty teenagers and the educational droning of the poorly-paid educators. The very things she lived for now seemed unnecessary when compared to her traumatic endeavors.

Her "partner in crime" of near thirteen years was gone. Out of sight for no reason. Disappeared without explanation or any previous mention of exit. Ronald Stoppable was gone. And worst of all, Kim didn't know why she felt partly responsible.

Kim sat in her admittedly uncomfortable wooden desk designed as one-size-fits-all; pretending to listen to Mr. Barkin as he talked about the fundamentals of something-something-bla-bla-bla… Her eyes were fixed on the teacher, who was notorious for barely moving during his teachings aside from the occasional passing out of papers and turns from writing on the big board. But she was gone. She was as attentive at the moment as was Peter Rabbit or the Tooth Fairy. In other words (to compensate for a horrible analogy) she was sitting in a dark room of her subconscious squandering; pondering over what could have happened.

Had Ron been kidnapped? No. There would have been some sort of ransom tape from Drakken uncovered already. Had Ron up and moved over night? Kim laughed at the suggestion before a chill ran down her back and—for some reasons unknown to her—she began thinking it may be possible for the Possibles to up and decide to move without previously informing Ron. But this was also not plausible. Ron would have told Kim before he moved. She would know. For every suggestion made, there was a logical and entirely plausible counterexample as to how it could be denied.

And that's when it hit her. As much as she hated to admit it, it seemed like the only suggestion left to make before being stranded with reason in a land of eternal darkness and confusion.

Had Ron run away?

It didn't make sense. Ron would never just run away without telling Kim. Kim was his everything as was he to her. Had he told her? No, she couldn't remember such a plan being told her or any hints having been dropped. But then again, she had been rather wrapped up with her new boyfriend to notice anything weird going on with Ron. Come to think of it, she couldn't really remember anything involving Ron or his presence ever since Eric first moved to Middleton weeks before.

Eric had moved, Kim had fallen in love, the two had begun hanging out, and—as much as she hated to admit it—Eric had kind of taken Ron's place in her life. A tear formed on Kim's face, but she didn't care enough to wipe it away. She was too depressed at the all-too-real realization that Ron might have run away and she had missed any and all opportunities to find out why.

On the other side of the classroom, Eric looked over at Kim. He wanted to see her chipper as she had always been. He wanted to see her staring intently on the teacher with a smile on her face and a can-do attitude emitting from her person. But Eric had to settle for the depressing sight of the emotionally-dead girl he had grown to love over the last few weeks.

This Ron-guy must have meant a lot to her. Eric smiled in her general direction, hoping for a reaction on her part. But she just continued staring off into space. Eric felt a pang of jealousy instead of the worry he knew he should be feeling.

VI.

Ron turned the last corner and looked out at the enormous Spokane Airport lobby. He could spot a McDonalds, a Subway, a Quiznos, some French-named café or bar, a bookstore, and a magazine/candy stand; all without turning his head a complete fifteen degrees. The franchises seemed to drown him, but he knew it was a sure-fire sign that he had touched down in the land of the free and greedy. He smiled as he realized that he had just made a somewhat sophisticated observational joke. And without Runk's help too.

"That was… kinda funny…" Runk tried hard not to make a compliment, but it was just too hard when his host finally began showing some signs of intelligent observation. It wasn't a very funny joke, but it was great considering the immature source. "Maybe this trip will do you some good after all."

Ron smiled at his other half's flattering remark and was about to thank him for the praise when he happened to catch sight of Jefrey. The man was leaning against the wall near the ATM nonchalantly with a pair of sunglasses complimenting his well-chiseled face as he noticed his cousin at the same time. The two stood in a frozen moment of time while they tried to remember each other's appearances and double-check that they were indeed each other.

But such precautions were unnecessary. As things slowly resumed normal speed, Ron and Jefrey both began running for each other like a pair of lovers in the climax of a romantic comedy. But instead of meeting with a kiss, the two settled for a wordless, bone-crushing hug.

It was minutes before either spoke.

"It's been a while."

A smile. "Yeah it has."

* * *

Two kindred souls (non-romantically) reunited after so long apart. How will things work out? Will Ron ever wind up seeing Kim again? How is she taking this anyway?

Well, I would have to be asinine to reveal any of that, now wouldn't I? Please review.


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